


ne'er-do-wells and insufferable bastards

by Syrasha



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Axette, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrasha/pseuds/Syrasha
Summary: Olette starts disappearing, and it’s weird. It’s really weird.She’s still their Olette. She just seems a little farther away than usual. And they love her but…It’s weird. It’s really weird.





	1. the edge of the water

Olette starts disappearing, and it’s weird. It’s really weird.

When summer vacation had started, she had been the one that was _adamant_ about spending every moment possible as a trio. Hayner and Pence weren’t exactly _plans_ kind of guys. Sure, they’d end up seeing each other every day anyway, because when it came down to it they all always ended up back at the usual spot.

Olette, though. Olette is on such a rampage that they half expect her to show up with a schedule for every day of the holiday, arranged in a 3-inch binder, with color-coded, cascading tabs.

That’s why it doesn’t make sense when her attentions shift. She’s absolutely still over-invested in the three of them spending time together (as well as mentioning homework every day!), but some days her mind just seems elsewhere, and some days she is literally gone for hours at a time.

She’s still their Olette. She just seems a little farther away than usual. And they love her but…

It’s weird. It’s really weird.

* * *

 

She plans on taking ice cream back to Hayner and Pence. That’s all it’s supposed to be for the day. It’s too hot for pretty much anything else, so she’s going to buy three sea-salt ice creams and take them back to the usual spot and they’re all going to try not to melt into the ground. The town is pretty much deserted, after all; no one wants to be outside on a day like today.

Olette buys the ice cream and turns around, ready to make a beeline back to their makeshift clubhouse, and when she does, all three sea-salt ice creams collide with a very black, very long, very much too thick for this weather coat.

The man wearing the coat doesn’t exactly look like he belongs in Twilight Town, but Olette is mortified no less. She sputters, jerks away, and hopes against all hope that Hayner will come rolling in with some kind of awesome social gaffe that will make hers invisible.

Hayner never arrives. The stranger blinks at her once, twice, and then his thin eyebrows rise into his hairline.

Olette’s jaw keeps dropping; he certainly doesn’t belong in Twilight Town, with that red hair and wild makeup. If he was local, she’d know him. She’s sure of it.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Olette finally manages, trying to look the stranger in the eyes. She doesn’t know what she expects, but she certainly doesn’t expect the stranger’s face to split in a cocky grin.

“Nah, sweetheart, _I’m_ sorry. Wouldn’t want to get in your way.” He sidesteps dramatically, but Olette’s demeanor has already cracked.

_Sweetheart_?

“I’m… what? Who’re you to just go around calling girls, ‘sweetheart,’ huh?” The ice cream is still in her hands, but the embarrassment has been replaced with what she would probably call _righteous indignation_.

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defeat. The stranger is in gloves and the longest black coat that Olette has ever seen, and she’s sweating just standing here in shorts. “You’re awfully fired up for somebody who just smeared perfectly good ice cream on a stranger.”

Redness rises to Olette’s cheeks. He’s not wrong, but still – _sweetheart?_

She shakes her head, and stomps away like she’s a hell of a lot younger than eighteen.

Olette doesn’t notice that the ice cream is completely melted until she gets to their spot and feels the stickiness running down her fingers, but despite the coolness, her body is still warm. Hayner and Pence are disappointed, but all it takes is a disapproving glance for them to swallow their complaints.

-

Despite their acceptance of the situation the day prior, Pence and Hayner use it as leverage. Normally, they take turns, but for the second day in a row, it’s Olette’s job to pick up ice cream. Again.

She’s ready to pay. Olette already has the pouch out of her pocket and the munny counted out when the vendor says, “Don’t bother, Olette. It’s already paid for.”

It doesn’t register to begin with, and Olette says, “What?”

“The guy from yesterday, in the coat, like it wasn’t a million degrees out here. He paid for your ice cream yesterday.”

He hands Olette the ice cream and doesn’t say another word about it. Hayner and Pence rejoice when she makes it back to them, and they don’t notice when she eats her own ice cream a little slower than usual.

* * *

 

The boys want to go to the beach. Olette doesn’t mind the idea, but Pence and Hayner are broke. They come up with some scheme to make enough munny to afford the train ticket, but Olette has plenty for her own and then a little spending money to boot.

She’s not going to work odd jobs for them. They can do the work for themselves. They’ll make her pull a lot of the weight once she finally convinces them to do the summer homework, anyway.

Olette can take a leisurely stroll. It’s cooler than that day a week ago, when she slammed ice cream all over the stranger in the weird coat. She doesn’t expect the walk to take her up to the station, but that’s where her feet wind up.

The view from the station is beautiful, all the houses and the water spread out in front of it, with the sun setting just behind. Olette sometimes feel like she takes for granted how beautiful Twilight Town is, and Hayner and Pence are here, and just… Olette breathes in deeply, letting the air fill her lungs.

The clock tower chimes, and Olette doesn’t know why, but she turns around and looks at it, thinking that it’s pretty damn beautiful too.

And when her eyes scan up that beautiful clock tower, the stranger is the furthest thing from her mind, but there he is. Sitting at the top of the tower, cloaked in black in what is definitely shorts weather with blazing red hair that makes him impossible to miss, is the stranger.

He waves, from his vantage point, sitting way up at the top of the tower, and for whatever reason, Olette smiles and waves serenely back, _sweetheart_ completely forgotten.

* * *

 

Olette sits on a bench in the sandlot. Save herself, the place is deserted. It’s just her and the whistling of the wind, and Olette is still a little mad at Hayner but it’s fine.

If he wants to put off the homework another day, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother Olette at all. It’s fine.

She puts her head in her hands. It’s not fine. If they just did it now, they could do nothing but relax the rest of the vacation. Why couldn’t he just understand that?

“What’s got you looking so glum, sweetheart?”

Olette’s head rockets up from her hands, but there’s no one there. Just the wind still whistling, sounding scarily like the stranger.

* * *

 

It’s a little too easy to play with her. She’s so wrapped up in her own head that Axel thinks he could have probably opened up a portal under her and she wouldn’t even have noticed. He’s dangerous, sure, but Axel’s never thought of himself as evil. The Organization is darkness, sure, but there’s darkness in everything. He just happens to not have a heart.

He’s not going to hurt the girl, this Olette, the girl whose simulation Roxas befriended. The Organization’s cloaks clean up easily, after all, and the sheer terror on her face when she had realized she’d walked straight into him with the sweets she’d just paid for.

That look alone would have given Axel plenty of reason to keep coming back around to Twilight Town, even if the view from the clock tower wasn’t the most spectacular thing he’d ever seen. Add that affronted face when he’d called her, “sweetheart,” and really, Axel was something that flirted with entertained.

He’s got some pretty good memories in Twilight Town, days with Roxas that he’d die to relive (that he thinks he’d even sacrifice a _heart_ to relive). He’s not about to turn down a few more good times.

And hell, sure, he doesn’t have a heart, but he knows a pretty girl when he sees one.

Axel drops his hood, and breathes in deep. Roxas isn’t here anymore, but when Axel closes his eyes and pretends that it’s a little while earlier, it almost feels like they’re side by side again.

“Hey!”

Axel’s eyes shoot open, but there’s nothing in front of him. When he pans down, he finds Olette.

“Are you from around here? I’ve never seen you before and suddenly I started seeing you everywhere. Also, wearing that coat in this weather is absolutely _ludicrous_ ; you’re going to melt.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle the heat,” Axel says, and when Olette turns because her friend in the camo shorts calls out her name, he disappears.

* * *

 

She sees the stranger at the clock tower more than once, so he must like going there. He bought her (and Hayner and Pence) ice cream last time, so Olette really just thinks of it as returning the favor.

It helps that his eyes are _stunning_ , of course, but that’s not the reason, not really. She wonders if they’d be quite so striking if he was wearing any color but black.

Olette makes it a point not to look up at the clock tower before she begins the climb, ice cream in hand. It’s good exercise anyway, and it’s kind of exhilarating to be the one ditching Hayner and Pence. They’re normally ducking her because they’ll do just about anything to not think about homework.

She’s not exactly a rule-breaker, per se, but there’s a bit of a thrill to just letting Hayner and Pence wonder at where she is. She’ll turn back up eventually, of course, just in time to nag them about that report that they’re insisting on putting off, but Olette thinks that they can manage for a little while without her.

Olette reaches the top of the tower and takes a deep breath, steeling herself, still not sure why she’s doing this and completely unsure what she’s going to do if he actually is there. She shakes her head and rounds the corner before she has the chance to let the sensible Olette take back over again.

He’s there, feet dangling off the tower like he doesn’t give a damn if he lives or dies, wild mane of hair and all. The stranger’s holding something in his hand, and Olette’s eyes light on it for half a moment before his fingers curl into his palm, matching when he looks her way.

The something in his hand looks an awful lot like an open flame, but Olette thinks her eyes are probably just playing tricks on her or something.

“You know, it’s dangerous up here,” the stranger says. “You have a death wish?”

Olette swallows, hard, and tries not to think about the situation that she’s put herself in, on top of the clock tower with a strange man who towers over her.

“Um,” Olette says, unsure how to answer the question because she is kind of wondering if maybe she _does_ have a death wish. “My name is Olette.”

She holds out the ice cream, trying to measure her breathing; what kind of _fool_ is she? This isn’t her, this isn’t something she would do. This is foolhardy and stupid and downright reckless.

The stranger waits a couple seconds that feel a lot like an eternity, but eventually, he reaches out and takes it from her, the fabric from his gloves (black! All black! Coat and gloves and pants and shoes, all in the middle of summer!) brushing against her fingers.

“Not going to smear this one all over my chest?” He asks it with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, and the blush that creeps up Olette’s cheeks and blotches her throat is involuntary.

“I-I’m sor-” Olette almost apologizes, but then he actually _winks_ at her, and the embarrassment is replaced by a feeling that she’s felt all too often with Hayner.

He’s teasing her, and she’s incensed, but there’s no malice in his words. Even in poking fun at her, he’s being friendly.

“Actually, no,” Olette says, retracting her statement before starting in on her ice cream. “I’m not sorry. You were standing much too close.”

She takes a seat next to him, trying to act like the height of the clock tower doesn’t bother her at all, like she’s not terrified of plummeting to her death. The stranger chuckles as she turns up her nose, righteously indignant.

The stranger licks his ice cream, and Olette watches out of her peripheral vision. They sit in silence for all of a minute or two, watching the sun set over the horizon, until finally, he speaks.

“I’m Axel.”


	2. we out here vibin'

Olette doesn’t show up at the usual spot the next day, and it takes her fifteen ( _fifteen!_ What are they, savages?) minutes to answer Hayner’s text.

 _Where are you?_ – _H_

 _Not going to make it today. Sorry._ – _O_

Hayner frowns, and wonders if he can convince Pence to bring ice cream instead.

* * *

 

The grief would never end if the guys found out that she was sneaking off to see, well, a guy. But the stranger – _Axel_ , whatever – has a sharp tongue and even sharper mind, and spending time with him is appealing.

“Do you ever wear anything normal?” Olette asks once, and she’s kidding, but he raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t see me questioning your pal’s camouflage shorts, do you?”

Olette rolls her eyes. “You’d be well within your rights. Hayner’s a fool at the best of times, and at the worst he’s actually embarrassing.”

Axel chuckles. It feels like a victory.

“It’s something… of a uniform,” Axel says, almost delicately, like he’s trying to tell the truth without telling the whole truth. Her mother had always joked that Olette had skipped the bad boy phase that she herself had gone through in her youth, but, well, Axel fits the bill pretty much to the letter. The couple times that she’s scaled the clock tower to find Axel’s hood still up, Olette has found herself wondering if engaging in this friendship was a mistake. Of course, that lasts all of about seven seconds before his seafoam eyes find hers and she remembers that, all things considered, he’s never been anything but nice (if occasionally infuriating) to her.

The open-flame-in-the-palm-of-his-gloved-hand thing hasn’t happened since the first time, so Olette is sure it was all just a trick of the light. Still, he must have a pretty weird job if their “uniform” is like _that_.

If he doesn’t want to tell, they’re not good enough friends for her to dig about it, but she can’t really just let it go like that either. Olette finishes off the last of the ice cream with a _smack_ of her lips, and says, “I’m just saying, it couldn’t hurt to wear something less…”

Her voice trails off, searching for an adjective, and Axel smirks.

“Less motorcyclist meets dark magic practitioner?”

Olette laughs fully at that, covering her mouth with her hand like she always has, like she’s always watched her mother do, not at all expecting Axel to question it.

“You got vampire fangs in your mouth, or why do you keep doing that?” he asks, and Olette raises an eyebrow.

“Doing what?”

“Covering your face when I manage a perfectly in-character stroke of hilarity.”

She’s definitely not telling him about the issues she has with her mouth, so wrapped up in how her teeth look that no one would ever see them if she could help it; Olette’s eyes are in a perpetual roll anyway and it’s as good a cover-up as anything. “I’ll do what I want with my face for as long as you keep wearing this ridiculous get-up.”

“What’s it matter to you anyway what I wear?” he asks, unaffected as per usual.

“Well,” Olette says, and she’s teasing, trying to match his tone but not quite able to when she’s always been so concerned with what other people thought of her and being the _responsible_ one, “Dinner is at seven tomorrow and my parents would be just _affronted_ if I brought home someone dressed like that.”

His mouth _pop_ s off the ice cream, the only sound he makes for a brief moment before he lolls his head to the side and smirks at her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, “I’ll be there at five to the hour and appropriately clothed.”

Olette’s mouth is agape long enough that the ice cream melts itself off the stick.

“I-I was-” Olette sputters; it was a _joke_. _Surely_ he knows it was a –

The smirk widens, a Cheshire grin that spreads out to his ears. He certainly knows it was supposed to be a joke.

Olette’s cheeks alight with stubbornness more than embarrassment. “I look forward to it,” she says, too resolutely for a mumble but not nearly as confident as she wants to sound.

Axel’s laugh sounds closer to a laugh than a chuckle for perhaps the first time. “Don’t worry. You can promise your parents I’m a perfect gentleman.”

* * *

 

She doesn’t know what he is, obviously. He was aware of that, but it becomes jarringly clear when she invites him to _dinner_ , even as a joke.

“Dinner is at seven tomorrow and my parents would be just _affronted_ if I brought home someone dressed like that,” she says, trying to match him in the game they play, quips and jabs all for the sake of a laugh.

It throws him for a loop. No wonder Roxas had liked her, or at least an incarnation of her. Axel stalls for time with the ice cream and decides to do the thing that would probably piss the Organization off the most.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be there at five to the hour and appropriately clothed.”

He’s, uh, playing with fire, for lack of a better phrase, but the look on her face is entirely worth it. Her cheeks match Axel’s hair in a matter of milliseconds.

“I-I was-” Olette is scrambling for words desperately, but if Axel has learned anything about her in the brief time they’ve known one another, he knows what’s coming next. His smirk widens preemptively, and as Olette takes it in, she says, “I look forward to it.”

Axel turns his eyes to the sky and closes them, breathing in salty air. He laughs, and his smile somehow feels almost genuine (feels? He supposes, though that’s probably not an accurate verb.). “Don’t worry. You can promise your parents I’m a perfect gentleman.”

Olette doesn’t talk much after that, and Axel is pretty sure she’s trying to put together the logistics of the situation she’s placed herself in.

Axel smiles to himself, all teeth and edges just short of sharp, face towards the setting sun.

* * *

 

The morning had gone surprisingly smoothly, considering Olette never invites anyone over except Pence and Hayner.

“Can I have someone over for dinner?” Olette asks over breakfast, innocently enough.

Her mother stabs at a piece of bacon crunchy enough to crumble under the pressure of the fork. “Hayner? Or Pence? It doesn’t really matter, I just know Pence can’t have milk.”

“It’s… someone else?” Olette says, and it’s supposed to be a statement, but it comes out much more like a question.

Olette’s father turns from his station at the stove, an eyebrow raised. “A new friend?”

“…Something like that?”

Olette’s parents share a knowing look, and Olette rolls her eyes.

“Do they have a name?” Olette’s mother asks, attention completely diverted from her breakfast.

“Axel.”

Olette’s mother smiles. “We’ll set the table for four.”

Olette literally cannot believe this is happening.

* * *

 

Olette spends the day after with Hayner and Pence, because she hasn’t been paying much attention to them and she really does feel a _little_ guilty. Axel hasn’t changed her life or anything, but he has thrown her a little out of orbit. The sun still floats where it always has, but where she is around it is anyone's guess.

“Where have you been lately?” Hayner asks, flippant, but underneath it he actually seems a little concerned.

“You don’t want to know,” Olette says, stalling for time a little but already pretty sure of what she’s going to say.

“Of course I want to know,” Hayner says in an indignant mumble, and it’s all the invitation Olette needs to rattle off all the consequences of her current menstrual cycle. Hayner looks sheepish for pressing, and Olette only feels the slightest bit guilty for not telling the truth. They spend the day like they always do, making fun of Seifer and eating ice cream and teasing each other. Hours feel like minutes when she’s with Hayner and Pence; they always have.

Olette thinks the jig is up when Pence says he wants to talk to her after Hayner announces that he’s heading home for the day. What the _jig_ is, Olette isn’t sure, but she certainly doesn’t want Hayner and Pence to know she’s been ditching the usual spot for a _boy_.

“You know,” Pence says; he’s already committed to walking her home. “You can fool Hayner by immediately bringing up your period if you don’t want to talk about something, but you’ll have to do it with a little showmanship to convince me.”

Olette stifles a groan. People always underestimate Pence, herself included. He’s so unassuming; they both fall into Hayner’s shadow more often than not, even though Pence has a good head on his shoulders and a likability that’s hard to deny. “So?” he presses, and Olette’s final hope that he would just let it go trickles away.

“I made…” Olette braces herself. “A new friend?”

“Oh?” Pence says, and the smirk that she _knew_ would be coming finds its way onto his face, but it disappears almost as soon as it appears. “Wait, tell me you’re not hanging out with Seifer…” Pence’s voice trails off in horror.

Olette stands slack-jawed for a moment before breaking into a full-bodied laugh, doubling over with a hand over her mouth like always. Pence steps back in alarm until Olette can pull herself together, still giggling. “Don’t… don’t worry about t-that, Pence. I can’t stand Seifer the way I always couldn’t.”

“Well,” Pence says, a little wary of the all-out display of emotion, “S’long as you’re okay.”

“Maybe, um,” Olette starts, and she’s not _quite_ bashful, but she’s certainly flirting with it. “You guys can meet him sometime.”

She stumbles over the ‘him,’ and it draws even more attention to it than it already was going to. Still, Olette thanks the stars that she’s talking to Pence and not Hayner, because his eyes glitter conspiratorially, but that’s as far as it goes.

Olette is suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. She’s lucky to have a friend like Pence, and even one like Hayner, and as they come up on her doorstep, Pence gestures towards it.

“I believe this is your stop,” he says, bowing deeply with terrible form. Olette smiles without teeth and steps forward, taking him briefly in her arms. Pence stiffens in surprise before returning the hug. “Olette, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am,” Olette says, “Just glad to have you as a friend.”

Pence’s teeth glitter with the light off the sunset as he smiles broadly. “Yeah, well,” he shrugs, “If me and Hayner wouldn’t have you, who would?”

Olette scoffs and punches his shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes. “Later, Pence.”

Pence gives her a chuckle and waves as he walks away.

She exhales and crosses the threshold into her house, glancing at the clock on the way. Axel should be there in about fifteen minutes if the jokes about his punctuality have any truth to them. Olette swallows hard, and asks if her mom needs help setting the table.

* * *

 

Axel drops the coat for the shirt he always wears underneath in a quiet spot in Twilight Town, and leaves the gloves in the same place.

When Olette’s mother greets him, the place his heart would be aches.

She smiles at him. Not at something in the world he’s inhabiting, not at something she’s thinking about; Olette’s mother opens the door and sees him, and her face splits into a smile.

Axel is so startled by the open display of warmth that his only option is to mimic it, albeit a little more reservedly.

“Your, uh…” He’s been thrown decidedly off-kilter by the unabashed geniality of her greeting. “Your daughter said if I didn’t come to dinner, she’d have my head.”

“Nonsense,” Olette’s mother says, “Cutting off a head with hair like that would be a crime against humanity.”

Axel almost scoffs – humanity; if only she knew.

Olette’s family eats short dinners. The whole affair is over with in a matter of 30 minutes, though not without Axel gleaning some information.

Olette’s only friends have been Hayner and Pence since she was seven years old.

Olette gets motion sick if she has to be in any vehicle for more than 15 minutes.

Olette had a boyfriend a couple of years ago, but broke up with him when he told her that he was jealous all the time of Hayner and Pence.

“Now, if you ask me why she does that thing with her mouth when she laughs, I couldn’t tell you-” her dad starts.

Olette snorts, and it’s supposed to sound dismissive but Axel thinks he catches more than a hint of embarrassment and defensiveness. “You wonder why I don’t bring anyone else over. It’s because you make a big deal out of _my_ quirks and we’re not allowed to talk about your lucky _ringtone_.”

Axel will figure out the mouth thing. He’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. This is too much fun.

He thanks Olette’s parents for dinner and they are gracious in kind. Axel bids Olette farewell too and makes for the door.

She makes a stuttering sound in the back of her throat that stops him before he walks out, and Axel turns to her in response. Olette pauses. Axel smirks.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

Olette’s face burns, and Axel feels a smile come on that feels almost genuine. To his surprise, though, she doesn’t rise to the bait.

“I just wanted to say thanks for coming. I had fun.”

Axel tries not to let the surprise show. “Nah. Pleasure was mine.”

Olette smiles softly and she follows him to the door, leaning in the doorway as he walks away.

Axel hears the Nobody before he sees it. He shouldn’t. It’s one of his.

The assassin waits until after Axel is out of Olette’s vision, and Axel isn’t sure if that’s because he wills it so or if the assassin is showing critical thinking.

He can’t feel. None of them can. That’s the very core of being a Nobody. And despite that, the assassin tilts its head to the side in what anyone would identify as concern.

 _She is unlike us_.

The words are in his head, not the corporeal realm, but it doesn’t stop his perception that it is his assassin responsible for it, somehow.

Axel waits for one of his chakrams to come to his side, and bisects the assassin before he can pick apart the implications of a Nobody henchman worrying after the Nobody that controls it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love you


	3. always had a vision

Olette’s best friend before Hayner and Pence was a teddy bear named Alana. She never needed Alana to sleep or anything (that would be silly and she would have grown out of that by now, surely), but Alana is always there. Propped up on the other side of the bed, in the corner of the room where the frame meets the wall, Alana watches. She is a silent friend, a guilty pleasure that Olette is a little bit ashamed of but wouldn’t part with for the world.

Olette is halfway dozing but not quite. Axel had been absent for the day, but that was okay; Pence didn’t give her much grief considering the dinner the night before, and what teasing she endured was outside of Hayner’s sphere of understanding.

They’re good friends, Olette thinks with a satisfied smile. The best, even. She’s lucky to have them.

Teetering on the edge of sleep, Olette wakes with a start to a sudden noise at her window. At first, she thinks she’s imagined it. Olette is, of course, right on the brink of dreams, but then the tapping comes once more. Sitting up, Olette scoots to the window that overlooks her bed. She can’t see anything outside, and she frowns just slightly. She chances a glance at the clock, which reads just after midnight, before opening the window to get a better look.

There is no one there, but a seashell sits on the windowsill, blocked from vision when the window is closed by the bulky frame. She squints once more, looking each way, but Olette can’t make anything out except for things that she would expect to see outside her window anyway. Turning her gaze to the seashell again, Olette picks it up almost tenderly and pulls it inside.

Turning it over in her hands, Olette traces its edges softly before closing the window. The night is still, and the seashell finds its place on her nightstand before sleep takes her.

The stitched smile never leaves Alana’s face.

* * *

 

For the most part, the Organization doesn’t ask questions as long as he’s doing what he’s supposed to do. It’s easy for Axel to slip away to Atlantica, even if he hates it there. There’s no room for his flames in a place submerged, but he doesn’t have to stay long. He catches a brief glance of the mermaid princess, the only person he’s ever seen with hair that matches his own, and Axel makes the mistake of catching her eye. The princess smiles, and he returns it with a smirk of his own. If Axel’s not mistaken, she moves like she wants to approach him, but her flounder friend distracts the princess long enough for Axel to disperse.

Olette’s plenty of distraction, and if Axel knows anything about Atlantica’s princess, she’s much too curious for either of their sakes.

Flickering in and out of existence, Axel lets the heat in his blood temper the void around him. He doesn’t know how the others do it, how they tolerate the void between worlds, cold enough that it feels like it could swallow his flames if he let it.

The dark, though. That he doesn’t mind. He’s never minded shining brightly, and he blazes hottest in the pitch black.

Time is fickle here. It feels like he wades through the cold for ages, and when he comes out the other side, not a second has passed between when he left Atlantica and when he passes through the tear in reality into Twilight Town.

The sea spray air overwhelms him, and Axel breathes deeply.

From his place outside her window, Axel can hear Olette moving inside. He places the seashell on the sill and raps twice, quickly, on the windowpane, sneaking a look inside just long enough to see a grinning bear.

* * *

 

She wakes to another knock at her window. It startles her out of bed, and she hears a chuckle that is unmistakably Pence’s. Olette purses her lips and opens the window, finding Hayner and Pence standing  just outside of it.

“Why couldn’t you just come to the front door?” she asks, a little irritated.

The grin on Hayner’s face widens. “We didn’t want to wake up your parents,” he says, not a little conspiratorially. “Anyway, has it even crossed your mind why we’re awake before you?”

Olette rubs a little of the sleep from her eyes, and glances at the clock. Her jaw drops. “You’re awake, willingly, at 7:30?”

The smile Hayner is wearing threatens to split his face. “Oh come _on_ , Olette, someone who has it all together forgot her own birthday?”

Olette’s face flushes. “B-birthday?” she stumbles before realizing that they’re right. She smiles and giggles a little more girlishly than normal. “Give me five.”

Slamming the window shut as quietly as she can (Olette’s parents won’t care that she’s gone out, but they won’t appreciate it if she wakes them in the process), Olette dresses quickly and meets Hayner and Pence at the front door. She sneaks through the house with the lightest steps she can manage, and when Olette swings the door open, Hayner and Pence meet her there.

“Happy birthday!” The congratulations is in unison as Olette shuts the door behind her, and she spreads her arms wide, welcoming them into a tight hug that she can only hope expresses how great a part they are of her heart.

The hug is brief, because Hayner and Pence resist any and all physical affection if they can. They have allowed her this small display because it is her birthday, and when they pull away, Hayner grabs her forearm, pulling her along.

“Hayner-” Olette starts to ask where they’re going, but he pulls on her arm just hard enough to cause her to stumble forward, and she has no choice but to trail along behind him, trying her hardest to keep up. She can’t keep the smile from her face anyway as he drags her towards their usual spot, and the happy tears that blur her vision keep her from noticing the red shock of hair that she might otherwise have realized was in her peripherals.

“I promise that you will not believe what Hayner is about to show you,” Pence says, mirroring Olette’s smile.

“Should I be worried?” Olette asks, jogging slightly to keep pace. She’d never thought of Hayner as much taller than her, but obviously the difference in leg length was working to his advantage.

“Oh come on,” Hayner says, never breaking his stride, “What have Pence and I _ever_ done to make you worry?”

Olette blanches, but they come up on their hangout quickly enough that she doesn’t have much time to wallow in the anxiety.

When they cross the threshold, Olette gasps.

There, on one of the ratty old armchairs that desperately needs replaced, is a binder. It has a three-inch spine and color-coded, cascading tabs, and Olette is sure she must be dreaming.

“Our summer homework!” Pence and Hayner announce in unison, and Olette throws her arms around them again.

“You did your parts of the summer homework-” Olette starts, and she’s teary with joy, because despite what they may believe she really doesn’t enjoy nagging them on the matter all the time.

“No,” Pence cuts her off, “We did all the summer homework!”

“What-”

“You’ve been basically doing our homework for ten years, Olette. We figured we could give you one birthday.”

When the dust has settled around the shock of the century, Olette settles in. It isn’t the caliber of work she would have done, but it’s close enough. They’re proud of their work, and she’s awestruck by the effort that they made, so they can break the rules on homework this time.

“The last part of your present is ice cream, so we’ll be right back while you check over what we did,” they had said, and ran out the door as quickly as they’d dragged Olette in. She got the distinct feeling that they were a little nervous that she’d pick it apart and redo it all anyway, but they really had done good work. A soft smile settles on her lips and Olette lets her eyes unfocus from the binder in her lap.

“Did you get my first present?”

Another voice, not Hayner’s or Pence’s, snaps her back to the immediate, and Olette sits up straight to find Axel leaning in the opening to their makeshift hangout. When she doesn’t immediately answer him, Axel pushes off from the doorframe and shakes his head.

“Oh come _on_ , Olette,” Axel says, and Olette feels warm; has he ever actually addressed her by her name like that? “You didn’t think I’d forget my girl’s birthday, did you?”

“Y-” Olette stands up with such a start at that that she almost doesn’t grab the binder in time. She huffs. “Suppose you think buying each other ice cream a few times makes me your girl, huh?” Olette’s face is bright red, and not just because she’s worried about Hayner and Pence coming back at any moment and giving her enough grief to make her want to end her life.

Shrugging, Axel takes a couple steps and closes much of the gap between them. “You can tell me I’m wrong anytime, sweetheart.”

The blush spreads to her ears, and Olette manages indignation. “Hey, we _talked_ about you calling me sweetheart-”

Axel holds up his hands in mock-defeat, interrupting Olette for what feels like the millionth time today. “Alright, fine,” he says, “I’ll let you have it this time, but just because it’s your birthday.”

He still hasn’t explained what his first present is, and Olette is dying to know what he meant. She checks the doorway again, because Pence and Hayner are due back any moment, and she’s _sure_ that Axel’s hands had been empty before but when she refocuses on him, he’s offering her a rose. Olette’s lips part just the slightest, but there isn’t really anything to do but take it.

“Happy birthday, Olette,” Axel says, and she really _does_ like how her name sounds in his mouth. “Two hours from now. Meet me where you found your first present at your window for the grand finale.”

 _Grand finale?_ And the shell, it was him –

He walks out just as Hayner and Pence walk in. They have ice cream, but Olette has the binder in one hand and Axel’s rose in the other as well as a pounding heart in her chest.

“Who the hell was _that_?” Hayner asks, and Olette shakes her head even as Pence gives her a knowing smile. The blush was never really gone from the encounter with Axel, but Hayner’s question has it flaring up all over again.

“A… a friend,” Olette manages, and Hayner stares pointedly at the rose in her hand.

“A friend,” he says flatly, and Olette nods. Hayner rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Look, you go mackin’ on whoever you like, but don’t _lie_ to me about it.”

That shouldn’t make Olette as mad as it actually does. “Who I’m ‘mackin’ on’ is absolutely none of your business, and I _wasn’t_ lying.”

“Right,” he says, and Pence stays quiet because he knows much better than to get between Olette and Hayner when something is brewing. “So you’ve just been totally AWOL all summer and when some pretty boy shows up and hands you a _rose_ for your birthday I’m supposed to believe you’re just friends.”

“Look, Hayner,” Olette says, and she tosses the binder on the couch purposefully. “You finally did a damn good job on a birthday present. Don’t screw it up because you’re jealous that I have a friend that isn’t you or Pence.”

Hayner takes a step back like Olette has slapped him, and she smiles at Pence. It won’t defuse the situation, and Pence knows better than to think she’s upset with him, but it makes her feel better at least. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She gives Pence a hug, but Hayner gets the cold shoulder. He gets like this sometimes, childishly jealous. Last year in school she’d been paired with Vivi for a project, and Hayner had been unbearable the entire time, furious that she was taking time to work with Vivi over hanging out with him.

He’d get over it. Hayner burned hot when he was angry but cooled off quickly. Nothing about that has changed since the day they met. She moves to head home, leaving her ice cream in Hayner’s hand, but as she readies herself to step outside, Olette pauses.

“Look,” she starts, because she doesn’t _like_ fighting with Hayner, even when he makes it so easy. “I’d planned on introducing you. I just didn’t want to because I know how you get sometimes.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Olette knows she’s said it wrong.

“How I get sometimes? What does that even mean?” he sputters.

“Just that you care about us more than anything, even if it means that it’s you against the rest of the world.”

Hayner softens just a little, and he still isn’t happy, but it’s enough.

“Thank you, guys,” she says, and walks home with the setting sun at her back.

* * *

 

He hadn’t really meant to say the ‘grand finale’ thing. Axel doesn’t regret it, either, but it’s a little more than he’d planned on showing his hand so soon.

Oh well, he muses. No one’s ever really considered him a cautious person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby youuuuuu  
> kellexofficial.tumblr.com


End file.
